Kid Sister
by oghianoos
Summary: After Juice's release from prison, he meets a prospect's younger sister and falls for her much harder than he'd like to admit. Loosely based on Season 4 - Juice/OC
1. For Your Consideration

******I'm really nervous about this story, which is to be expected with a new story, I suppose. To my new readers, I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think of this so far! I'd love feedback. I only own Ariadne and Christopher. Rated M for the inevitable ;)**

* * *

_Christopher_

"Hey, prospect! Where you goin'? The weddin's tonight!" Chibs yelled out from behind me, "C'mon, they all just got out of the big house; it'll be fun. You're comin', right?"

"Nah man, my sister just graduated from a university in Pennsylvania, I promised her I'd take her out the night she got back." Juice walks by and stands in front of the exit, blocking my way, "What, you're not comin' tonight?" he asks, crossing his arms. "No, he says his sister's back from university tonight. Why don't you just bring her? We'll show her a good time!" Chibs says chuckling. Juice nods in agreement, "Yeah man, if she's hot. Is your sister hot?" he's eyeing me intently. I laugh uncomfortably, "Come on guys, she's my little sister." "Little sister? How young we talkin' here?" Juice asks laughing, "No but seriously, just bring her. You can't miss Ope's wedding. He won't take kindly to that. Just take her out tomorrow night." I sigh in defeat, "Yeah, alright."

* * *

Ariadne stops rummaging through her suitcase to look up at me, obviously frustrated, "What do you mean a wedding? I won't know anyone there. Not to mention, I don't have a dress!" She tosses a few things out onto the bed and shoots me a look. "This is pretty important, Ari, I shouldn't miss it. You can just wear an older dress since you won't know anyone there. Nothing special, all the guys should just be wearing a regular shirt, jeans, and their cuts." She laughs a little, "So not too fancy?" I shake my head in response, smirking. "Fine," she sighs, "But don't leave my side for very long. You know I won't know anybody." I lean down to kiss her cheek, "Thanks, sis. I promise we'll go out to a nice big dinner tomorrow night. Maybe we'll even call Mom, tell her to come." She looks down at her palms, almost lost in thought, "Yeah, maybe." She jumps up from her cross-legged position on the bed and grabs my keys, "Time to go look for a dress."

* * *

_Ariadne_

I decide on a tight, mustard yellow dress that stops right above my knees, has a low back, and straps that fall around my shoulders. I put on a little bit of foundation, blush, eyeliner and mascara, and then add on dark-red lipstick as a finishing touch. I walk out into the living room to show Chris and he laughs, "I thought we agreed on not too fancy. You look too dressy!" I frown, "Sorry, I'm not sure how else to show up to a wedding. I really could have gotten more dressed up – this is a little toned down, in my opinion."

We climb into Chris's truck and I fiddle with my hands the whole way there. I plug my iPod into the car to play some music on shuffle and maybe calm my nerves. Even before Chris had decided to try out for SAMCRO, I had heard plenty about them; it's kind of hard not to when you're living in the area. Although some of the things I had heard were bad, Chris had seemed so happy. We had always lacked a strong family, and I knew that was one thing he was always desperately searching for in every possible outlet; I also knew this was something the Sons could provide him with. So, in this aspect of his life, I have nothing negative to say. If it makes my brother happy, I am all for it. "Bukowski" by Modest Mouse is playing as we pull up to the reserve and park; I look at everyone around and realize I shouldn't have agreed to come – I'll be totally out of place. Chris, as if sensing my discomfort, flashes a smile my way, "Don't worry, they're all nice guys. You'll get along with everyone just fine." I smile back at him and take a deep breath, preparing myself. I step out, one dark-red pump at a time. A few guys in their cuts start stalking their way over, they're laughing and pushing each other around. "Prospect!" one of them yells and slams his palm hard on my brother's back. He's obviously very drunk already. "Hey Tig," Chris says with a laugh, "Guys, this is my sister Ariadne. Ari, this is Tig, Juice, and Chibs." I raise my hand to shake theirs and Tig pushes it down, engulfing me in a bear-hug. I laugh nervously as I pat his back, "Nice to meet you." I can definitely smell Jack Daniels on his breath. He lets me go and I hug the other two as well. "What a pretty name. Prospect! You never told us your sister was a looker!" Chibs says playfully with a big smile, "C'mon sweetheart, I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew. The one's who've showed up, anyways." I walk with Chibs and look over my shoulder at my brother, and he smiles reassuringly at me.

* * *

_Juice_

I push Tig over, "Man, how many shots have you had already? The ceremony hasn't even started yet!" He staggers, but stands back up straight, laughing. "Don't worry about it, Juicy-boy!" He points up, "Shit, look at that gash, she is haaaaaaht!" I look up and my laughing stops cold. I think it's just the fourteen months without pussy talking here, but I am drinking her in: she's tiny with shoulder-length light brown hair, olive skin, and big deep-blue eyes_. _She's short enough to where I'm sure she only comes up to my chest. We all hug her, and Chibs takes her to meet the rest of the guys. I look unbelievingly at Chris, "Shit, Prospect! I asked you if she was hot!" He shakes his head and says sternly, "Like I said, she's my sister." I laugh a little, "Never mind that. How about you go see if the bride needs anything before Ope gets here." He nods in response and walks away. I look over to Chris's sister, who is now shaking Bobby's hand, and decide to walk over. "Hey, why don't you let me take over?" I say in Chibs' ear. He nods, "Girly, I'm gonna go check up on something with Jax. Juicy here'll introduce you to everyone else."

She nods and looks up at me, "Is Juice the name on your birth certificate?" I chuckle, "No, but it is what everyone calls me."  
"Then what _is _written on your birth certificate?"  
"Juan-Carlos. But please, don'tcall me that." She flashes a smile at me and I can't help but to grin back.  
"I like that name, not sure why you'd want to be called Juice over that," she says playfully. "Could I get you something to drink?" I ask. "Weren't you supposed to introduce me to more people?" she eyes me intently with a small smile playing at her lips. I put on my best poker face and say, "Yeah, but you should have a couple of drinks before you meet the next few people. Trust me." She giggles a little and again, I can't help but grin. "I won't even ask… but sure, I'd love a drink or two, it'd probably ease my nerves around you tough bikers," she says the last part with sarcasm all but dripping from her tone.

"What's your poison?"  
"What's the exquisite selection I'm choosing from?"  
"Well, there's beer, Jack Daniels, beer, Jäger, and beer," I say with a chuckle.  
"Jack it is, then."  
"I'll be right back, then."

I stumble out of my chair, almost falling face-first onto the floor and consequently, I curse myself out in my head. I hear a muffled giggle from behind me and pretend to scold her, "Be nice." She just smiles and nods back at me.

I bring back four shots of Jack and hand her two, taking a seat in the chair next to her. "Do you need me to get you something to chase –" I start, but she takes the first shot without batting an eye. I laugh, "Haha, _alright_!" She looks at me, confused, "I've never met someone who chases Jack. Why would I?" her eyebrows are scrunched up. "Well some people are pussies, y'know?" I say, shrugging. "Do I look like a pussy, Juan?" She eyes me carefully, a playful tone to her voice. I shake my head, "No. Not at all." I'm trying hard not to stare at her. I really need to get laid, man. I'm scaring myself. I take my first shot and look straight at the ground afterwards. She lightly shoves my shoulder, "No need to be so serious! Is it because I called you Juan?" She smiles again. If only she knew what I was thinking right now. I smirk back, wanting to say anything that comes out of her lips is okay by me, but I hold back the cheesy remark. I raise the second shot and we clink glasses, "To good humor," she murmurs. We both take our second shots. She slams her empty shot glass down on the table and just as she's about to say something, Chibs walks over with Tig and the Prospect. He leans down and says loud enough for only me to hear, "Sorry brother, I tried to keep him away as long as I could." I shrug; a little bit of progress was made and that's good enough for now.

They all sit around the table with us and Chibs speaks up, "So, Ariadne, your brother here tells us you just graduated from university?" She nods, "Yeah, UPenn actually." We all look at her incredulously, "Isn't that an Ivy League?" I ask. Her big blues flit to me briefly, "Yeah. I majored in English, minored in history." "Impressive!" Chibs says heartily. Chris smiles at her, "Yeah, she's about to start an internship with an editing company, actually." We talk a little bit more about the reserve and other things until everyone starts quieting down for the ceremony. They say their vows, and everyone chimes in to say, "I promise to treat you as good as my leather, and ride you as much as my Harley." I look over at Ariadne, who is giggling, red lips against snow-white teeth. And just as the thought of me riding her like my Harley enters my mind, I feel my face burn. Everyone claps and cheers, and I see Tig bring a round of Jäger to our table. Ariadne looks up at me, "We probably shouldn't mix colors." I shrug, and Chris looks at me apprehensively, "You guys drank already?" Ariadne nods quickly, "Juice here assured me that I'd need a few shots in order to stand to be around some of you," she says with a wink. This earns her a laugh from everyone at the table, minus her brother, who is still looking at me unsurely. "Yeah, well take it easy. It doesn't take much to get you drunk," Chris says, looking over at his sister. She picks up the shot glass, tilting it in her brother's direction, "I can handle myself, thank you very much." And with a smirk, she downs the shot.

* * *

It's getting dark and Jax, Chibs, Bobby, Happy, and Chris are still dealing with the Russian situation, although I'm sure Ariadne knows nothing about that. Though it wouldn't matter at this point; we've both had at least six shots tonight, and we shared a joint. She's doubled over laughing, holding onto me to keep herself from falling. I laugh, "Alright, I doubt I'm that funny. But thank you." Practically everyone has cleared out, but I'm waiting with Ari by my bike until her brother shows up to drive her home. She stands back up straight and cups the side of my face with her hand, "Maybe I'm just laughing because you're cute." A jolt goes through my chest and I look at my feet, "Maybe you're just drunk," I whisper back at her, smiling. She shakes her head, "Don't pretend you haven't noticed my flirting with you all night." I look back up at her face, "I don't know what you're talking about." She scoffs, "Of course. And _you_ haven't been flirting with _me _at all either, right?" I smile, "Well I didn't say _that_, did I?" She leans in, her lips brushing against mine, and I feel another jolt go down my front. "You've been in the slammer for fourteen months, right?" she asks, her lips feel like feathers against mine. I nod slowly. "So it must be really hard for you not to throw me down right here, Juan." My breath hitches in my throat, "Normally you'd be right. But right now, you're drunk. Not to mention, your brother might tear my Adam's Apple right out of my throat." She let's out a hearty laugh, and we can hear a group approaching. "To be continued, then?" she asks as her brother's voice comes into earshot. "Sure thing, sweetheart," I say as she steps away from me and greets her brother.


	2. Lua

**Thanks for being so supportive already, guys! It definitely put a smile on my face knowing that people like where this is headed. I'm trying to come out with chapters as often as I can! Feedback always helps me figure out what you do and don't like. So please, don't be silent! :)**

* * *

_Ariadne_

I groan, clutching my head and pulling my covers up. I always feel like shit after I get cross-faded. I glance over at the red numbers on the digital clock next to me, 1:30 PM. "Shit," I croak. I hear footsteps come towards my room from down the hall, and Christopher's head pokes out from behind the doorframe. "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey! About time you're up, sleeping beauty!" he says, chuckling. I try to think of a witty remark but resort to a simple "Yeah, whatever," instead. "So I'm taking it you had a good night last night?" he sits on the foot of my bed, seemingly uncomfortable. I nod, "Yeah, but I'm taking it you think I had too good of a night?" He just sighs in response, finding a sudden interest in my comforter. "You're my sister, Ari. And no matter how old you get, you will always be my _little _sister. Even a few years ago, it was so difficult for me to come to terms with you moving states away for four years." He pauses, running his fingers through his almost blond hair, "I know you're a big girl, and you can do whatever you want. But don't expect it to be easy for me to just go along with. You know how much I love you," he glances up at me with a sad smile. I sit up, taking his hand, "I know, I love you too. And I really do appreciate your need to look out for me," I give him a genuine smile, squeezing his hand. "Are you still up for dinner tonight?" I ask, and he retracts his hand, getting up from the bed. "Yeah! I was thinking we could go to San Francisco, actually." I grin from ear-to-ear, already having a pretty clear idea where he's planning on taking me. "Is the restaurant by the ocean?" I ask in a singsong voice. He smiles, nodding, "Clever, clever girl."

I can't stop smiling; I feel incredibly giddy. "How'd you get reservations on such short notice?" He smiles cockily at me, "I just called Rover. Reminded him of who we are and who our dad was. He offered his condolences and got us a table right by the windows for 8 o'clock. Just the way we always like it." Back when my dad was still alive, he could call his friends at the Cliff House and get a table that night, even on the busiest nights of the year. It was one of the perks of him being the ex-banquet manager there – one that everyone loved, mind you. He passed while I was in my second year at UPenn from lung cancer. When he was diagnosed, I almost moved back home. They had caught it late and given him a low probability of survival. I tried so hard to move back to California, but Chris would not let me. Said that dad would never want me to give up my education at an Ivy League school. Anyways, since my dad passed, I'm sure it would be difficult for Chris to score reservations that quickly since no one really knew him. I, on the other hand, practically grew up in that restaurant. Since I was a kid, my dad would bring me to work with him at least twice a week. Since he had his own office, no one really minded. I would just spend all day in his office, sipping hot chocolate and drawing things on napkins. Mark Rover was the guy who took my dad's job after he passed. I only met him once – it was short and awkward. The windows were always where we wanted to sit, especially at night, when you could see the sunset over the Pacific. I hadn't been there in ages.

"Should we get all dressy, or are you going to be wearing your cut to a fine-dining restaurant?" I shoot him a look. I know they all wore their cuts everywhere, but was he really going to go to the Sutro's in the Cliff House, a formal restaurant, in jeans and a leather vest? He smiles, "I'm sure I can lose the cut for one night. I'll probably just wear a SAMCRO sweater under a blazer, matched with a nice watch. That's formal enough, right?" I nod; it was a good enough compromise. "You, on the other hand, should wear a dress. It's been ages since anyone's seen you, and you like to impress," he says, laughing. "You know me oh-so-well, brother dearest." I climb out from under the covers, stretching my arms over my head. "I'll go get my make-up done then," I smile. He grabs my shoulder as I turn around, "Ari, listen," I feel an uncertain and anxious sensation rise in the pit of my stomach just from the look he's giving me, "I called mom. We're going to meet her there. She sounded like she was looking forward to seeing you." I look down at the ground, "Oh. Yeah, okay." I grab my purse to head out into Modesto to get my makeup done. I head out to my car and sit in the drivers seat for a few minutes, rummaging through my purse for my phone. I was going to call an old friend; she'd been begging me to see her when I got back. She has gone to beauty school and always offered to do my make-up for me. I always asked her because she was damn good at it. I unlock my phone and dial the number I had known by heart since I was 14.

"Hey, Satan!" she says after a few rings. She had called me that throughout high school, and I never quite knew why.  
"Are you going to call me that forever?" I say with a laugh.  
"Maybe. What's up?"  
"I was actually wondering what you were up to today? I'm going out to dinner tonight and am in dire need of someone who knows how to apply eye-shadow."  
"Yeah, of course! I'm free now?"  
"Okay if I head over now? I'd be there in like, thirty-five minutes give or take."  
"Sounds good!"

* * *

It's about 5:30 PM as I climb into my car to head back to Charming. We ended up lighting up a joint before she did my make-up, then watching episodes of _The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack _until I decided it was time to drive home.

I'm about to pass Manteca when I hear an odd noise. "Please don't let that be my car. Not tonight," I whisper to myself. I drive a little bit until the heat-warning indicator comes up. I punch the roof of my car, swearing under my breath. I turn on the emergency lights and pull over. I lock my car doors, something I've made a habit over the past four years of driving alone in a strange state. I pick up my phone and find the number saved under "Teller-Morrow." I had saved the number when Chris had started working there as a mechanic and wouldn't answer his cell phone, but I had never actually called.

It rings a few times until an already familiar voice answers, "Teller-Morrow auto, we're about to close shop in half an hour," he starts, but I cut in, "Juan?" I hear him chuckle over the line. "I did tell you I didn't want anyone calling me that, right?" he says, feigning annoyance. "Sure you did, but something tells me you don't mind when _I _call you that," I'm putting on my best cocky tone, "Anyways, I may need your help." "I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress. What can I do for you?" I can hear the smile in his voice. "Well, my heat-warning indicator went off," I say, taking a deep breath, "And I'm pretty sure I smell something similar to burnt sugar. If I'm not mistaken, I think that means there might be a coolant leak, so I'm guessing my radiator just over heated. I think I need a tow." He laughs, "Ooh, miss Ivy League knows a little about cars too! Where are you? I'll come pick you up." I put it on speaker while checking my maps application on my phone, "I think I'm about a quarter-mile or so away from the first exit into Manteca on 99 going north. I'm the silver Volvo sedan." I turn off the speaker and press the phone back against my ear. "Sure thing, sweetheart. I'll leave right now," he says. "See you soon, Juan," and I hang up before he can complain about my use of his real name.

I play solitaire on my phone for a while before I hear a tapping at my window. I look up to see Juice grinning goofily at me, and I stifle my laugh. I unlock the doors and step out, "Thank you for coming so quickly, I know you said the shop was closing soon." He just smiles and says, "Like I said, I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress. Plus, you're Chris's younger sister. It's not like I would have turned you away for calling right before we closed." He starts to hook the car up, "You could probably have made it back if you had waited for your car to cool down and just added a little bit of coolant, but it's safer to just tow your car if a coolant leak is present." I nod, "Yeah, I figured. That's why I called the shop. How fortunate I am that you were destined to be my knight in shining armor." He just laughs, "What can I say?" I get into the passenger seat of the tow truck, "You didn't deny it when I said you don't mind me calling you Juan." He starts the car and laughs, "That's because I don't mind. There, is that what you wanted to hear, princess?" "That is exactly what I wanted to hear!" I shove his shoulder lightly. "So, you know a little about cars, huh? Don't tell me you also play Call of Duty. I might have to marry you on the spot." I laugh, "Just the bare minimum. Enough to help me out a little if I'm stranded by the roadside, anyways. I couldn't be an actual mechanic. And to answer the second part of your statement, I don't play much COD, I'm more of a GTA kind of girl." He looks over at me disbelievingly, "No shit!" A few moments go by as he goes from looking at the road in front of him and back at me.

"Don't act like you've never met another person who plays GTA. Do you have any idea how many people love everything the Rockstar franchise comes out with?" He just fixes his eyes on the road, "No, I've met plenty of people who play GTA. Just never someone that looks like you." I scoff, "What is that supposed to mean? Because I wear make-up, do my hair, and smell nice I can't enjoy video games?" He shakes his head, "Of course that's not what I meant. It's just–" I cut him off, "I'm totally screwing with you. Don't worry, no offense taken." He looks relieved, and we both laugh a little. "So, which Rockstar game is your favorite?" I scrunch my eyebrows in thought, "Well, I was a total sucker for LA Noire. But I think I'd have to go with GTA San Andreas. I mean, the graphics aren't nearly as good as GTA IV, but I enjoyed the storyline a lot more." He grins, "Totally agree with you there. But what about Red Dead? That had both a phenomenal storyline and amazing graphics! That would be a definite close second for me." I nod, "I've heard plenty of great things about Red Dead, but I'm embarrassed to say that I've never actually played it." He tuts at me disapprovingly, "What a shame." I jump up to defend myself, "I really wanted to play it. It's just that when it came out, I did not have $60 to blow on a game, you know? And I just haven't been able to afford anything new since The Ballad of Gay Tony came out for GTA IV. I only got to play LA Noire because a friend lent it to me. I'm sure I can get Red Dead for cheaper now if I buy it used, but I just haven't gotten around to it." He looks over at me for a second and I continue, "Do you know how many awesome games I've missed out on? Mass Effects 2 and 3; Assassin's Creed 2, brotherhood, revelations, and 3; any of the MLBs since 2K9; the list goes on." He smiles, "Lucky for you, I have most of the games you just listed, and I'm _very _willing to have you over to play them sometime. Maybe we can even go head to head on a UFC game. I'd like to see what you've got, kid." I laugh, "Yeah, that sounds wonderful."

We pull up to the auto shop and I sigh, getting out of the truck, "When do you think I'll be able to pick it up?" He glances at the car and turns down the corners of his lips, "Maybe one day – two at the most. It just depends on how backed up we are." I nod, "Alright, thanks again for saving the damsel in distress!" He chuckles, looking at me from top to bottom, "Would you want to come over for some weed and videogames tonight?" I giggle, "Oh Juan, how you have a way with romance!" We both laugh, "Honestly, there is nothing I'd love more. But I have dinner reservations with my brother and Medusa herself," I say smiling. "That's alright. Some other time," he's smiling but looks a little let down. "Of course we'll do it some other time. How could I pass up the chance to make you look like a child?" His face lights up as I say this, "I think it'll be the other way around, princess. You can't be _that _good at everything." I laugh, "You're ridiculous." We walk into the clubhouse and I sit behind the bar and text my brother to come pick me up, "Could I get a shot of Jack while I wait for Chris? Something tells me I'll be needing it tonight." He nods, stepping behind the bar to pour two shots, "I'm guessing that statement has something to do with Medusa?" he chuckles. "One for me too," he says clinking our glasses together, "So, wanna tell me what that whole Medusa thing is about?" We both throw our shots back. I laugh, wiping my mouth off with my sleeve, "Just my mother." He raises his eyebrows, "Yeah, I figured as much. What makes her Medusa, if you don't mind me asking?" I take a deep breath and look at my empty shot glass as I twirl it around in my hand, "She's just always angry at me about _something_, you know?" He nods before I continue, "She was never that way with Chris, though. But it seemed that no matter what I did, she was never proud of me. She used to make all sorts of jokes about how I was an accident – a mistake even," I let out a sad laugh. "You know, I was ecstatic when I got into UPenn. Partly because I thought she'd finally be proud of me, but mostly because I knew I wouldn't have to live with her anymore. But then, instead of complaining about my study habits like she used to, she started tightening her grip on me. She'd call me about ten times a day to make sure I was at home and not going out. Sometimes she'd fly up unannounced to try to catch me doing something that would get me in trouble. At some point, she showed up and I was drunk. It was my 21st birthday, and she tried to ruin it for me. She always told me she'd hate me if I drank – she was pretty strict. She slapped me once or twice, and I snapped," I tap the glass down a couple of times as I finish my sentence. "What happened?" he asks after a few seconds of silence. I force a smile and look at him, "Well, I reminded her that it was completely legal for me to be drinking, even though it was something she absolutely forbade me to do. Then I yelled at her a bit, told her I wanted out. I didn't need her money, or her hospitality when I came home. I just wanted to be done with her. She gave some speech about how she had done everything for me and I was just stupidly throwing it away, and that it meant nothing to her what I had accomplished with my education, she would always see me as unintelligent. I was just so tired of her complaints and constantly having to worry about how _not _to strike up an argument on accident. It was always like I was walking on eggshells around her; the smallest thing could get her riled up. If it wasn't this, it was that, you know? She was always destined to be unhappy with me. So I gave up. I told her that if I was really a mistake, she could just forget I existed. She stopped calling, showing up, or talking to me altogether. But every time I came up in conversation, Chris said that she'd act like nothing had happened." He offers me a sad smile, "And is this the first time you'll see her since that night?" I nod, "Hence me needing a shot. My nerves are all over the place."

I hear the door to the clubhouse open and I turn around to see Chris. "What happened to your car?" he asks. "It kind of broke down. Juicy here came and picked me up from Manteca and towed my car back here," I get up and stretch my arms out, "I'm pretty much ready, I just need to change." He nods back at me, turning his attention to Juice, "Thanks for picking her up, man." He smiles, "Yeah, of course." We walk out to Chris's car, but I stop before I get in, "I left my purse in the clubhouse. I'll be right back!" I run in and see Juice already holding my purse up for me with a smile. "Thank you," I say, and before he can come up with a witty retort, I lean in and give him a quick peck on the lips. He stands there dumbfounded and speechless while I run back out to Chris's car with a huge grin on my face.


	3. A Perfect Sonnet

**So the updates are coming really quick right now, mostly because I'm still on break. But I'm starting school in a couple of days again and won't be able to update as often. Also, much like my other story, the chapters are named after songs. Rather long scene in this one that called for the M rating ;) hope you enjoy!**

* * *

_Ariadne_

I put on my casual champagne colored dress and pull on small heels, then proceed to run out to meet Chris in front of the house. "I told you I'd only be a minute!" I said, sliding into his white 1967 Mustang, aka the love of his life. He starts the car and we start our trek to San Francisco.

* * *

We walk in the big glass doors and walk down the stairs to the Sutro's. Chris squeezes my hand as he tells the host his name. She smiles, "A member of your party is already here. Right this way." I feel my throat close up and remind myself to breathe. We follow the host to our table and I see my mother sitting there in her favorite red dress. I really hope that's a good sign. She stands up to greet us, smiling widely. She was always quite good at putting up a front and pretending everything was normal. She hugs me and I tense up, patting her back absent-mindedly. We sit down and I run my fingers lightly over the appetizer menu, focusing on the way it feels against my fingertips. It's all I can do to stop myself from breaking down. After a year and a half, she looks the same, if not better. She's wearing that gold necklace I bought her for her birthday three years ago. Does this mean she's trying to make amends? The fog in my head is thicker than San Francisco's trying to figure this situation out. "Hey Mom," I say, looking her in the eye for the first time tonight. She smiles wide again, "How have you been, Ariadne?" I shrug, "I've been pretty okay. I start my internship –" I start but she cuts me off calling for the waiter, "Sorry, could I get a glass of water."

I stare at my lap, taking a deep breath. She looks back at me expectantly, "Sorry honey, you were saying." I clear my throat, "Uhm, yeah. I start my internship at that editing company in a couple of weeks. Pretty excited about that," I offer her a small smile. "What have you been doing since graduation?" she asks, and I feel a tight pain in my chest at the reminder that she wasn't there to see me walk a few weeks ago, "I packed my things, moved back in with Chris. I was thinking of moving to an apartment in Pleasanton or Livermore, you know to have a shorter commute since the company is in Pleasanton." Chris furrows his eyebrows, "When were you going to tell me this?" he says with a laugh. "Well, it wasn't sure-fire. I was waiting until I could figure it out. I might just get an apartment near you and make the commute most days, but I was hoping I'd be closer." The waiter comes by and takes our order. Chris looks up at me again, "Knowing you, you'd need to be closer. You're always waking up late. But you should try the commute. You've lived states away for a few years now, so I'd like to have you close to home for a little while." My mom looks between us, beaming, "I'm glad you took care of her when I couldn't," she says, rubbing Chris's hand over the table. I feel another sharp pain in my chest. Wanting to scream out, '_When you couldn't? Or you just wouldn't? What about me, mom? Are you at least proud I took care of myself? I graduated from an Ivy League, that's a pretty big accomplishment._' But I just sit quietly, watching Chris's expression get uncomfortable. I know he's sorry, but I also know it isn't his fault.

The dinner goes well, mostly in silence, though. The check comes and I offer to pay, but my mom looks at me like I'm stupid, "Sweetie, you don't have money right now. Internships don't pay." I just look down and mumble, barely under my breath, "I still would have had to intern if I went into med school like you wanted me to." She nods, taking out her wallet, "I know." Her tone is short; I can tell she's trying not to say anything more. "What is it?" I ask, apprehensively. "It's just that I expected more of you, Ariadne. More than an English degree, anyways." I scoff, "An English degree from an _Ivy League, _mom. Do you know how easy it was for me to get this internship? I got it in one interview. All the guy had to do was look at my résumé. This is what I've always wanted to do," I get quiet, clasping my hands together. "I know, and that's why I didn't say anything. You asked me what it was, and I told you." I sigh, "Mom, it's not the fact that you said it, it's the fact that you still feel that way. I just wish you could be happy for me," my voice is almost a whisper. "Honey, I'm trying to be happy for you. I just think it was an asinine move to major in English. I wish I could, but I just don't understand –" I cut her off, "You know what I don't understand, mom? Why you always pressured me but always acted like the sun shined out of Chris's ass," I look over at him apologetically, "You always wanted to trip me up or control me somehow. I tried, I really did. But I guess I just realized that no matter what I do, I will never be good enough for you." I get up, grabbing my jacket and heading up the stairs and out the door.

* * *

"Do you think I was too hard on her? She looked like she was really trying to be civil," I ask, lying down on the couch in the main room. "You just had a lot of anger pent up inside of you, Ari. I think she never pressured me just because she knew I wouldn't give in. You always jumped to do what she told you." I sigh, "Yeah, you're probably right." I rub my temples, trying not to let tears well up in my eyes. "Hey, do you have Juice's cell number?" He looks up at me, eyebrows raised, "Yeah… why?" I chuckle, "Calm down, I just wanted to play video games with him. I could really use some mindless fun right now." He nods, taking out his phone. I dial the number and it rings a few times, then he answers.

"Who is this?" he sounds tired.  
"Not even a hello? Ouch."  
"Hey princess. Sorry, I just don't like getting calls from unknown numbers."  
"Were you sleeping?" I ask, smiling to myself just imagining him scrambling for his phone half-awake.  
"Just taking a quick nap. How'd you get my number?"  
"My brother. Listen, could I take you up on that offer a little sooner than later?"  
"Uh, yeah… do you mean right now?" he says, clearing his throat.  
"Would that work for you?"  
"Yeah, I'll pick you up at Chris's?"  
"See you soon," I grin and hang up.

I look up to see Chris staring at me, "I won't ask." I smile, "Yeah, good." I run into my room, putting on my most comfortable black yoga pants and a tight navy v-neck. I slip on my shoes and check my reflection. I look ridiculous with this get-up and smoky-eye shadow. I lightly rub off just the eye shadow and reapply my mascara. I brush through my hair and put on a couple sprays of perfume. Just as I think I should change from yoga pants to jeans, or something a little bit more attractive, I hear the doorbell.

* * *

_Juice_

It was hard not to stare at her when she answered the door, the entire drive to my apartment, or while she was kicking my ass at UFC Undisputed 2010. She looked damn sexy with those tight pants. They hugged her hips and her ass in all the right ways. Just the way her ass looked in those yoga pants made my jeans feel tighter. Don't even get me started on that shirt she's wearing; her cleavage is out just enough to drive me wild with curiosity. Since we stopped playing, she's been roaming my apartment, giving herself the grand-tour while I follow behind her. Thank God I cleaned the place up last night on a whim. We walk back out to the living room and she smiles at me, "I'm quite impressed." I smile back, "It's not much, but it's where I kick back when I'm not being a tough biker," I say, using her "tough biker" bit from the night of Ope's wedding. She just laughs, slumping down on the couch in front of the plasma screen, "I love your collection," she says, motioning towards all of the games and comics lining the shelves. "Please, don't tell me you like comics, too." She eyes me with those big blues, "Why not?" I sit next to her on the couch, linking my hands behind my head, "I can barely handle the fact that you're gorgeous _and _love video games… more so the fact that you just handed my ass to me at a game I've spent _full __days_ playing. I don't think I'd be able to handle you liking comic books too." She giggles, "Alright, we don't have to talk about it." I feel her fingers trace the bolts surrounding my Mohawk, stopping my breath, "I didn't know you had tats under your hair," she whispered. "I hadn't been able to shave it the entire time I was in the Big House. I shaved it today, right after you left the clubhouse," her fingers feel so good, practically massaging my scalp, "You know... after you kissed me." I look at her from the corner of my eye and she smiles bigger, and it takes just about all of my self-control not to throw her down on the couch.

_Ariadne_

I can't figure out what it is, but my need for Juice to devour me is intensifying tenfold by the second. And that look he's giving me tells me exactly what I need to do. I situate myself in front of him, straddling his lap. I can hear his breath hitch in his throat momentarily. My face is inches away from his and I'm looking right into his eyes while my fingers trace the muscles in his arm, "Why don't we pick up where we left off after Ope's wedding? Remember, to be continued?" I croon, trying my best to sound seductive. It had been at least a good year or so since either of us has gotten any – for me it was because of my lack of free time, for him it was because he was in prison. I knew he wanted it – I could tell by the dark look in his eyes. And I wanted it too; I was just trying to make it painfully obvious for him. He leans in, placing a soft kiss on my lips, sending chills up my spine. His lips are much, much softer than I'd have ever expected. His hands go back, one on the small of my back as the other cupped my face. He grants himself permission to roam my mouth with his tongue, slowly sliding it against mine. He puts one hand under my shirt, sliding it up as he moved his mouth to my neck. He slowly nips at my collarbone, his teeth barely grazing my skin, and I let out a small moan. He lifts his head to look me dead in the eye, his gaze burning through me as he pulls my shirt off slowly. He takes a deep breath, rubbing his palms against the front of my black lacy push-up. He presses his lips to mine again, this time with a little more force, and unclasps my bra. "Shit," he mutters under his breath, admiring my bare chest. His primal glare is fueling me even more. I place my hands on either side of his face and pull him back in. Unhurriedly, I put my hands under his black tee, pulling it up with my hands. We break for a second so I can slide the shirt over his head. He picks me up, my legs wrapped around his waist, and walks to his room, placing me gingerly on the bed underneath him. He slides my pants off, never once breaking eye contact. I unbuckle his belt as our lips meet again, pulling his pants off and throwing them over my head. I can feel his cock pressed up against my hips, only a thin layer of cloth between us now. He buries his head in my chest, taking a peak into his mouth as he hurriedly pulls off my thong. I feel his palm against my clit, his fingers by my entrance. "You're so wet," he groans into my ear, slipping two fingers in. I mew into his mouth as he picks up his pace. "Please," I beg, "Please fuck me." My degree in English is failing me, I can barely use any sort of speech right now. His eyes intensify, "Gladly," he practically growls into my mouth, grinning from ear-to-ear. He yanks his boxers off and rubs himself against my clit. I grip the sheets under me, "Please," I beg again, sounding desperate. He pushes in painstakingly slow and I gasp, "Oh, fuck," my voice shaking from being so full. He slowly pumps in and out, burying his face in the crook of my neck and breathing heavy. His breath on my skin is sending jolts down my spine. His pace is quickening rapidly as his rough hands roam all over me. He licks his fingers quickly and rubs my clit as he rolls his hips into me. "Oh God!" I yell, "Juan, I don't think I can last much longer," groaning, I grasp the back of his head. He slows his pace down now, probably in an attempt to delay both our climaxes. He tangles his hand in my hair, seemingly holding onto it for dear life. His smell, the soft sheet under me, his weight on top of me, the decadent feeling of him filling me up, it's all so intoxicating. I let out a final moan as I tighten around him, slipping out of reality momentarily. He let's me ride out my orgasm before he pulls out, flipping me over onto my hands and knees, and enters me again. My eyelids suddenly feel heavy; I'm obviously exhausted, but it still feels so damn good. He's rolling into me, barely gripping my hips. It doesn't take me long to come again, my muscles spasm and my legs become rubbery. He doesn't wait for me to ride it out this time, quickly pulling out and coming onto my back. I lie there for a few moments, fighting sleep as I feel something cold and wet against my back. I glance behind me to see Juice with a washcloth, cleaning up after himself.

He collapses next to me, pulling the covers over us before we both pass out.


	4. Poison Oak

**Okay so I apologize for how disgustingly long it took me to update this story (I'm guilty of it for my Inglourious Basterds story as well). Stick with me on this chapter, I'm still trying to feel this story out, so I'm really sorry if you don't enjoy this bit! Please let me know what you all think of this one :)**

* * *

_Ariadne_

The analog clock next to the bed is shining bright, 9 AM. _Shit_. How did I sleep in his bed for this long? I turn my head over to see the empty half of the bed next to me –ruffled sheets and a few pillows, but no Juice. I roll out of bed and find my panties, pulling them on while frantically searching for the rest of my clothes. I'm definitely not looking forward to the walk of shame back to my brother's house. I finally find the remainder of my clothes bunched up under the sheets, wrinkled from being thrown about. As I sit down to pull on my pants, I'm surprised by how sore my legs are. I'm not sure how many times we woke up in the middle of the night to go at it again, attempting to drain all our sexual frustrations, but I do remember attempting to leave at four in the morning before I passed out again. He really gave me a good work out – and the fourteen months without sex had given him a fresh sense of vigor. Walking quietly, I can hear the shower faintly as I walk past the bathroom, internally debating whether or not I should leave before he gets out. The last thing I want is an awkward encounter and I'm not sure he still wants me here. I go up to the couch and find my shoes underneath it. Looking back up to briefly search the room as my head swims – stay or go? I'll stay. Leaving would definitely make things awkward; I may have a chance to salvage this situation if I stay. My eye catches the shelf on his wall, full of comics, and I decide to check it out while I wait. I grab _Swamp Thing: Book One _and slump down on the floor, deciding to read until he comes out to greet me.

I get through a decent amount of the book before I hear footsteps coming towards me. Juice is stalking towards me without a shirt on, his skin glowing – fresh out of the shower, and I have to remind myself that having another go at him is not the best idea when I'm trying to assess the situation. Boy, am I practicing some serious self-restraint right now. He smirks at me, nodding in my direction, "You're up." I offer a small smile in return, "Yeah, I was just checking out your comics." He takes a few steps closer, offering me his hand to help me up. I take it, standing up with my face right at his chest; he smells magnificent. "Did you know I was in the shower?" I nod, looking up at him. "Why didn't you join me, then?" he asks smirking, softly running his fingers down my arm. I shiver a little, kicking myself for not leaving earlier. I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to control myself. "Aw, you're blushing!" he says, grinning, "What? Ivy League's got nothing to say?" He pushes up against me a little and I feel a wave of warmth roll through me. "I should probably get going. Chris might be worried," I pipe up, almost squeaky in tone. "Nah, I already called him this morning; let him know you spent the night," he responds in a breathy voice. I'm not sure how much of this man I can take – I might not be able to walk right for a while if he keeps me here all day like I know we both want him to. "And he was okay with that?" I ask, arching my eyebrow at him. "Yeah, he said it's our business." I nod unsurely. "What's wrong?" his tone changes to confused. "Nothing! I'm just exhausted. I'm surprised you aren't as tired as I am," I whisper, trying oh-so-hard not to look at his face. He chuckles a little, "The shower definitely woke me up, but if you'd prefer we go back to bed, I'd be all for it." He leans in, tenderly kissing my neck and pulling his hand up against the small of my back. A small moan escapes my throat, and he walks us backwards until my back is up against the wall. He runs his hand up my side and tangles it in my hair; his kisses are so sensual, so filling. A cell phone goes off on the kitchen counter and he breaks away and glances behind him, giving me an apologetic look, "Sorry sweetheart, that's the prepaid. I gotta take it." He goes in the other room to talk for a bit, and then returns to me, "Looks like I have to get my ass to the clubhouse. To be continued again?" His grin is so goofy that I have to giggle, "Yeah, of course." He goes to his room to put on a white tee, followed by his cut and a sweater. "I'll drop you off on my way there," he says, leaning against the doorframe with his face inches away from mine. I smile and nod, "Sounds good, stud." He chuckles, leaning down and kissing me on the cheek.

The ride there is interesting. Not my first time on a bike, so I knew how to be a proper passenger – leaning with the bike and not trying to stand up on turns. But it was certainly challenging for my self-control while I was holding onto him tightly from behind while he flexed under my touch. The ride to Chris's feels mercifully short. I get off the back of his bike and he takes off his sunglasses, "I think your brother is at the clubhouse already," he motions to the house. I go to give him back his helmet and he takes it. "So… I had a really good time last night," he says, I can tell he couldn't stop grinning if he wanted to. "Yeah, me too," I say breathily, grinning right back. My heart starts pattering quickly, "I'm glad to hear that," he's still grinning, but he's looking down and I can tell he wants to say something else. I help him out a little by saying something first, "Want to hang out again soon? I noticed you have a few games I'd like to beat your ass in and –" he cuts me off, kissing me hard on the lips. He breaks away from me, laughing, "Yeah, bring your A game. Maybe tonight?" I nod, "Sounds like a good time. Just call me when you're done with club business." And with that, he rides off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

* * *

The pink bubbles are foamed up around me, giving off a light aroma of jasmine. The phone vibrating by the sink next to my head has woken me up. "Goddamnit," I mutter, lifting my now drenched copy of _House of Leaves _out of the tub. I suppose I just fell asleep while reading and allowed myself to drown my favorite book in the process. My phone vibrates again, pulling my attention away from the sopping pile of papers in front of me, and I reach over to look at the screen, "Juan," I say aloud. I answer, "Allo! Puis-je vous aider?" I answer, trying my best to remember the little bit of French I learned in high school. "Hello?" Juice answers, sounding a little confused. I giggle, "Hey stud." He chuckles lightly, "Your car is ready. Your brother just finished fixing it." I pull the phone away to look at the time – 5 PM. "Sweet, now I can go and –" I interrupt my sentence with a yawn and he cuts in, "I need you to let me in, it's a little windy out here." My brows knit together, "What? You're here?" I rush out of the tub, water falling off my body and drenching the bathroom floor. I grab for my robe and slide it on in a rush, the soft fabric sticking to my wet skin. I make sure the robe shows a decent amount of cleavage, pushing the opening folds away from my chest. I rush down the hall, pulling my hair out of the bun and nearly tripping over myself to get to the door. "Yeah, I figured I'd just bring your car over. I thought it'd be a nice gesture, but now I'm getting kind of –" I open the door and he looks me up and down, finishing his sentence, "Hot." I smile, stepping to one side to let him in, "You mean cold?" I ask as we both shut off our phones. His eyes roll over me again, this time with a stronger intensity. "Yeah, whatever," he practically growls, entangling his hands in my hair and pushing the door closed behind him using his foot. He slides the robe off of one of my shoulders, never taking his eyes off mine, and continues to move onto the next shoulder. He pushes his lips to mine with a little force, masked with an almost displaced softness. He tastes like cinnamon. Pinning my lower body to the wall with his pelvis, he unties my robe painstakingly slow, his lips never leaving mine. The dark-pink robe falls to the floor, pooling around my feet. Juice runs his fingers up my sides, a devilish smirk creeping across his face. His lips go to my neck, his teeth nipping softly at my skin, making me gasp. "Does that hurt or was that good?" he whispers against my neck. "No, that was _so_ good," I croon into his ear. I feel his hands rush to my hips and pick me up with such force it hurts, and slams me hard into the wall. I throw my legs around his hips, linking them at the ankles behind him. He steps back, lifting me off the wall, "How do you want it?" he groans into my lips. "Against the wall, on the floor, in bed, in the kitchen?" he kisses me between each option, "Maybe all of them one by one?" I laugh lightly at his eagerness. "How does the floor sound to you?" I mew into his ear, and I can feel him shudder beneath my touch. "Fantastic," he mumbles, voice cracking, pupils huge with desire.

He spins us around and lowers me down to the hardwood floor rather quickly, laying flitting kisses down my chest to my belly button. Those big brown eyes look up at me quickly before he lays more kisses going back up. His mouth lingers, hovering above one of my peaks. I can feel his hot breath on my erect nipple as he looks back up at me, seemingly checking for any sign of protest – and of course, there isn't any. So he proceeds.

* * *

"You know, I hope you don't mind, but I don't think I like the mustache," I say giggling at Juice while he takes a massive bite out of his double-double. He grins at me, "Then I wouldn't mind shaving it," he muffles out through bits of burger.

We had picked up In-N-Out and came back to his place to watch _Reservoir Dogs_ – what a fantastic way to follow up earth-shattering sex. This had turned out to be a phenomenal day. He shoots me a goofy grin, neither of us paying much attention to the movie. "You, Juan Carlos, are going to be the death of me," I glare at him in jest. "Yeah? And why's that?" he's smirking at me. "I'm sure I'll die of exhaustion before the end of the month, that's why." He raises his eyebrows at me, "That isn't solely my fault, you've got something to do with it too. Who's to say _I'm_ not tired?" I get up and put on my coat, yawning, "I think I'm going to head home Juicy, I am in desperate need of sleep." He gets up too, "Why don't you just crash here?" I put my hands on my hips, "There's that damn look in your eye again. _That's _the reason I'm so tired all the time. It's that fucking look you give me!" I say, motioning in his direction. He raises his hands up in defense, "We'll actually sleep this time, I promise." I arch my brow at him, "It's not like we didn't sleep last night. The issue wasn't the absence of sleep; it was the waking me up countless times in the middle of the night." That look is still on his face, making me question whether or not I actually want to sleep and not just stay up again. He draws a cross over his heart with his index finger, holding up his right hand, "I promise I'll try my best to let you rest. That's the best I can do." I stifle a laugh, "Alright, fine."

* * *

"What the fuck is going on between you two?" Chris snaps, obviously agitated. My eyes grow wide in surprise, "I thought you said it was my business?" He sighs heavily, "I know, it's just really fucking hard to deal with not even getting a call to let me know that you're spending the night. You can do whatever you want; it just makes me feel shitty when I don't know where you are. I had an unexplainably strong urge to hit him earlier today at the clubhouse. Do you know how detrimental that could be? I don't want my emotions to fuck up my chances of being patched in." I glance down at my hands, fidgeting nervously. "Do you want me to stop seeing him?" my voice cracks a little. As unexpected as it was, I had grown quite fond of Juan. I didn't want to hurt my brother, but I really like this guy. "No," he says, defeated and much to my relief, "I'd just appreciate a courtesy call letting me know you won't be home that night." Fair enough, "I'll give you a heads-up from now on," I mutter, trying to hold back my grin.


	5. We Are Nowhere and It's Now

**I apologize profusely for taking so damn long to post this chapter. A lot has changed for me in the past few months and it's made writing nigh impossible. I really hope you all enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think, please! It helps me write more.**

_Ariadne_

I abuse the script I have in my hands, bending and dog-earing the pages, rolling all of them into a thick tube one way and then the other. I could read the words over and over again in a feeble attempt to process them, but all I can think about is Juice.

It's been over two weeks that I haven't seen or heard from him. When I first started the internship, it was much easier to forget that he hadn't called yet. To convince myself that this wasn't any sort of betrayal; he's just busy like I am. With the driving back and forth and searching desperately for an apartment, on top of all the reading I've had to do for the internship, there were a couple of days Juan's name didn't even enter my mind. I've been so busy that I barely noticed the time pass. But he could have called. He could have made an effort to see me. Setting the script down and grabbing my phone, I search through my contacts and find his name. I hover over his contact information, trying to decide whether or not to call. What a child I am, expecting him to call me first and feeling hurt when he didn't.

Before I can make a decision my phone starts vibrating in my hands, it's Christopher.

"What's up?" I answer.  
"You tell me, Ari. I'm here waiting for you, you said you wanted me to wait at the clubhouse and call you when I got done?"  
"Yeah… yeah, I needed to drop off my car at the shop, just wait there for me until I come so I can just hitch a ride back home with you."  
"Alright, hurry though, I've got plans tonight."

I hang up, staring at my phone to gather my thoughts. It's Chris's birthday tomorrow and I wanted to surprise him tonight with a cake. I would have done it tomorrow, but he never would have bought my rouse if I asked him for a favor the day of his birthday. The cake I made him was far less difficult for me to hide from him than I had thought. He was barely home last night when I first made it, and left the house early this morning. Gemma was the one who suggested bringing the cake to the clubhouse, saying the guys would throw him a proper party. I made his favorite – German chocolate with mocha-flavored icing on top.

I gingerly place the cake in the front seat of my car, buckling the seatbelt in front of it to ensure its arrival in one piece, and I'm on my way.

* * *

I'm trying to lock my car, but balancing the cake in my hands is making it difficult.

"Do you need help?" the voice behind me cracks so much that I barely recognize it.  
"I'm okay, Juice." I hope the bitterness in my voice is as apparent as I'm trying to make it. I feel his arm snake around my waist and he kisses the top of my head. He proceeds to gingerly take the cake from my hands, freeing me to lock my car door. I don't return his embrace and huff out, "Thanks," and proceed to quickly walk in the direction of the clubhouse.

"Ariadne," why is his voice cracking so goddamn much? I turn around and my heart drops as I take in his dark features. His eyes look exhausted and sunken in, accompanied by huge dark bags underneath them; he looks like he hasn't slept in days. It had never even occurred to me in my selfish rage that Juice could have been in trouble this entire time; maybe he didn't even have a way of reaching me. I cradle his face in my hands, cupping either side, "Jesus Juan, you look awful." He tilts his head to kiss one of my palms, his eyes glossing over. "Whatever it is, let's have a good time now and you can explain later, if you want," I whisper, kissing his cheek. He responds with a weak, "Okay." I grab the cake from him and we're on our way inside.

* * *

The music is blaring and a few women get up on the poles as I take my last bite of cake. I look over to the corner where Juice has been sitting in the past half hour, nursing his beer and throwing out a few fake laughs every time Tig has said something funny. Chris comes over and kisses my cheek, "Thank you, sissy!" he yells over the deafening music. I smile, hugging him. I can practically taste the whiskey with the way his breath reeks of it, "I think I'm going to head out and let you have fun with the boys." I can tell he's already got quite a few shots in him, because it takes an impressive amount to make him sway and grin the way he is. He fixes his gaze on the blonde riding the pole in front of him, "Alright Ari, drive safe," his voice is distant, he's obviously entranced. He turns and kisses my cheek again.

I take one last look at Juice in the corner, he looks up at me and I can see the sadness in his eyes. The look on his face alone is breaking my heart. I turn around and walk out the door.

My heels are making soft clinking noises on the concrete as I walk to my car. The cold air is nipping at my bare arms and the silence of the night outside the clubhouse is so tranquil.

"Are you leaving without me, Princess?"

I pivot quickly to see Juice a few strides behind me. He walks up to me slowly and cups my face, slowly leaning in to kiss me. All of my anger dissipates as he softly presses his lips to mine over and over again. In his lips I find an unspoken apology, and every witty remark, every accusation and angry statement I have thought up in the past weeks completely vanishes. "I'm so sorry I haven't called, Ariadne," his voice breaks again and I can tell it's taking everything in him to hold it together, "Please, take me home, and I can explain everything." I nod, not taking my eyes off of his, "I can do that."

* * *

"You mean the Sheriff is blackmailing you?" I ask as another tear streams down Juice's face. We're sitting on his bed, cross-legged, and both wearing a pair of his flannel pajama pants.

"Roosevelt says if I don't help them… provide them with intel and shit, he's gonna go to the club and tell them that my daddy's black," he pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath, "I mean shit, Ari, I barely know the man. He never felt like a fuckin' father to me, and now just the fact that he _is _my dad could get me killed."  
"Shit, Juan. I'm so sorry," I thumb away a fresh tear on his cheek.  
"That's why I haven't called. I've been held up there and every waking moment I've been freaking out. And shit, I did something really stupid. I gave him a sample of the coke we were gonna give the Cartel and I almost fucking got caught," he looks up at the ceiling and I suddenly notice in this brightly-lit room of his what I couldn't make out in the darkness of the club – bruises around his neck.

"Juan…" I whisper, crawling closer to him and running my fingers lightly over the line of bruises, "Jesus Christ." I can feel tears threatening to rush out, "What did you do to yourself?" With that question, he's pushed over the edge; he clutches me close and starts to cry uncontrollably into the crook of my neck. "I'm so fuckin' stupid, I'm so fuckin' stupid."

I pull away from him, looking into his red-rimmed eyes, the eyes that give away that in this moment, he's completely broken and lost without the slightest idea of what to do in order to redeem himself. "You aren't stupid, Juan. You're fucking human. It's okay, you'll figure it all out," and although the words leave my lips, I don't fully believe them. This is one shit storm he'll have to go to Hell and back in order to clear up.

"I'm so sorry, babe," he whispers. Even with all the shit going on, I can't help but smile. "What is it?" he asks, half-assedly wiping his face. "Nothing. It's just… you called me babe. Sorry, I just–" and he cuts me off by kissing me hard.

"Ariadne, this entire time we haven't spoken, all I could think about was you. I missed you," and I see him crack the first genuine smile of the night. I get up off the bed and walk to the kitchen, "Ari, where are you going?" He follows me out and I open his fridge and freezer, "I'm going to make you something to eat. You look like you haven't really eaten these past few weeks, and it sounds to me like you need a little tender love and care." He turns me around to face him and closes the space between us, offering me a devilish smirk, "I can think of a few ways you could give me a lot of tender love and care that I'd _really _appreciate," he runs his hand under my shirt and up my side. "Is that so?" I arch a brow at him and feel my cheeks burn up. "It sure is," he leans in and I feel his breath on my neck causing chills to run down my spine. He leaves soft kisses on my jaw line and pulls back to look at me.

With his eyes on mine, he closes the freezer door behind my head. His grip tightens on my hips and he pushes me firmly against the cold refrigerator door. "Right now, I know just what it is I want to eat," his face is right up against mine and I feel like I can't breathe. He lifts me over his shoulder and slaps my ass so hard it stings. We get back to his room and he throws me onto the bed. He slips my shirt and bra off and then climbs off of me quickly, "Wait here," he instructs, turning to rummage through his closet. He reappears with something shiny in his hands and climbs on top of me.

He opens his palm and I see what it is he's holding up with his fingers; dangling in front of my face is a pair of shiny silver handcuffs. He twists them through a bar in his headboard and cuffs both my wrists. The metal feels so cold against my skin that it gives me goosebumps. He rolls my pants off painstakingly slow and I feel his hot breath on my pelvis. "Juice," I moan out, pushing my hips up closer to his mouth. He pins my hips down, hard, "No, say my real name, baby." I purr out, "Juan, please Juan." With that, he lowers his head and pushes my legs apart. He's taking his sweet time, kissing the inside of my thighs and pinning me down by my hips. I feel so helpless and it's so hot.

Suddenly, he sucks on my clit, making me spasm beneath him, pushing against his palms that have such a firm hold on me. I've never liked when other guys have gone down on me; it always felt so goddamn awkward. But the way Juice is doing it right now makes me reconsider my stance on getting head entirely. His tongue rolls over my folds just softly enough for me to purr out his name over and over again.

He abruptly stops and kisses his way up, I can hear his belt unbuckle and his jeans roll down. I feel his teeth graze the skin of my neck before he bites down, hard. "Fuck!" He chuckles and growls, "You like that?" I moan in approval. His lips press hard onto mine, his tongue roams into my mouth, and I feel him fill me completely. At the sensation, both of us moan into each other's mouths. "Fuck, you're so wet for me," he groans, his mouth still on mine. With each thrust, we both moan loudly, probably convinced neither of us has felt this elated in our lives. His grip tightens on my hips, and it hurts so goddamn good. He goes back to biting my neck, marking me. In this moment that's all I want – to be marked as his. "I want you to come for me," he growls into my ear. And that's all it takes; I meet my end so incredibly soon that it shocks me. I tighten around him and shudder underneath his weight, and soon after I feel another climax coming on. His pace quickens, his breathing uneven and harsh. "I think I'm coming again." I feel his hand on my clit now, rubbing quickly, "Oh my GOD," I scream. I let go and feel my climax ripple through me. He groans, "Fuck," and comes inside me, then puts all his weight on me, collapsing on top of me. His breath is uneven against my neck and he mutters, "Fuck," again, only this time much softer.

"Shit," he whispers, sounding irritated. It takes me a second, but I realize why he's upset, "Don't worry, Juan. I'm on the pill." He lets out a relieved laugh, "I got ahead of myself, sorry." He lies down next to me and unlocks the handcuffs. "I liked those," I smirk and rub my wrists. He chuckles back at me, "Yeah, me too."

"Can I tell you something?"  
"Sure, Princess."  
"I've uhm… well… up until you, no guy has ever made me orgasm."  
"What?!" He sits up, and the cocky smile on his face is enough to make me regret telling him.  
"It just hasn't ever happened. I've always liked sex, but no one other than you, or me, has ever made me come before."  
"How many guys?" I can tell he regrets asking the moment he does but I answer anyways.  
"How many other than you? One. You're my second."  
"Really?" he asks, propping himself on his side to face me.  
"Yes, really."  
"Okay," he grins.

Though the thought crosses my mind to ask him how many were before me, I quickly push it away. I'd rather not know.


End file.
